


if you were a church (i'd get on my knees)

by craigtherewhoisahomosexual (Ashtarok)



Category: South Park
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Animal Death, Blood and Gore, Can’t catch me gay thoughts tucker, Dark, Death, Demons, Exorcisms, Imp!Tweek, M/M, Pastor!Craig, Religion, Religious Conflict, Religious Guilt, Religious Imagery & Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-09 08:02:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13477176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashtarok/pseuds/craigtherewhoisahomosexual
Summary: Craig knew then he was over his head, but he would have rather died than admit it.





	if you were a church (i'd get on my knees)

**Author's Note:**

> Entirely inspired by [Kisu's](http://kisu-no-hi.tumblr.com/) lovely dark AU, I take no credit for that. Also SP Phone Destroyer for originally inspiring us all lol
> 
> Warnings for: Character death, religious stuff, a lot of sin, and mentions of sex and the shit that comes with it. Nothing overy explicit... unless I really am that dead inside
> 
> Title creds to Church-FOB, unbeta'd bc I still don't got one for this fandom. bear w me

“Saint Michael, the Archangel, defend us in battle. Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil. May God rebuke him, we humbly pray; and do thou, O Prince of the heavenly host, by the power of God cast into hell Satan and all the evil spirits who prowl throughout the world seeking the ruin of souls. Amen,” Craig whispered fervently, clutching his rosary close with tight shoulders. 

 

“That’s not very nice, pastor,” a voice came purring out of the darkness. Hooves clacked their way down between the pews, the intimate, velvety rustle of wings accompanying.  _ He  _ appeared. Again. Craig stared at him, slumping slightly as the wind was knocked out of his sail.

 

Tweek was a lower demon, a weakened Azazel type. His bottom half was of a goat, brown fur and long legs that ended in shiny, coal-black hooves. His top was like a man, if men often had jutting horns, pointed ears, huge, bat-like wings, terrifying fangs, whip tails and yellow eyes with rectangular pupils. His hair, blonde and thick and jagged, reminded Craig of fire. Craig looked away as Tweek stepped closer, staring at the flickering flames of the many, many candles around the room, lit to pray. Wax dripped down to pool on the floor carelessly, a dull red, creeping puddle. 

 

“Why haven’t you gone?” Craig asked abruptly, briefly glancing at him again. Metal glinted on his wrists and around his neck, the remnants of imprisonment being a thick collar and shackles made of the purest of silver. A stray chain link dangled from one of the cuffs, and it made noise every time Tweek shifted. “I… I released you. Why won’t you leave me be?”

 

Tweek started to laugh, stepping closer still. Craig stiffened his jaw, staring at the marble floors instead, the candlelight swirling shadows on the walls and in the darkness of the rows upon rows of pews. He was kneeled before the altar, seeking guidance, strength, and control. He had already failed.

 

“You may have physically released me, but you won’t banish me. I’m still bound here. It wouldn’t take much, Craig.” He flinched at the unbridled truth. “Even for you to exorcise me— you’re powerful enough. I would be gone, for ages. I’d never bother you in this mortal life again, pastor.” Tweek loomed behind him, his tail scraping against the floor slightly as he flexed it. Craig started muttering a Hail Mary under his breath, his grip on his rosary white-knuckled.

 

“You should just go,” he suggested, before launching into an Our Father. Tweek rested his hands on his hunched shoulders, the claws digging in slightly. Not enough to draw blood, but enough to give him goosebumps, ready and anticipating. It was almost worse. 

 

“I won’t. Not unless you make me… stop lying to yourself, Craig! We both know you’re not that dumb!” Tweek hissed, rising to his full height as he briefly flared his wings. “You don’t want me to go, and that’s the truth. It’s more than the truth, really.” He crouched abruptly, squatting beside Craig and side eyeing him with a curious look. “You fucked up, pastor.” Craig swallowed reflexively, eyes squeezing closed. He prepared to say another prayer, but then he just sighed instead, fingers loosening around his rosary. 

 

“... I know.” And he really had. 

 

Craig was so close to it all. He’d been selected for a potential bishop position, after the old one for his area retired. He’d faithfully, righteously managed his church and its people for years now, and now they had simply requested a display of his knowledge and faith: exorcise a demon. Craig had prepared dutifully for weeks, done all of the research he could, then summoned Tweek. Of course, if Craig had known it would be Tweek he’d end up with, he would’ve refused the potential position outright and continued on, firm in his faith, his religion,  _ himself. _

 

Alas, he had gotten Tweek. Surprisingly meek to start, and so lanky and thin, half-curled into himself as he watched Craig with those yellow, yellow eyes. He’d looked almost pitiful in the bonds, clearly not used to being chained, and he’d shrank from Craig’s stare like a groveling dog. Craig should’ve known it was a trap immediately. Should’ve being the keyword. 

 

“Tweek Tweak, a demon of addiction,” Craig told him, watching the creature shrink into himself at the full weight of his name used against himself. “You will be banished soundly, and I hope not back to our realm for a hundred years or more.” 

 

“Oh yes, of course,” he answered, looking at the floor as he dragged his claws against it. “You should easily be able to defeat me… pastor Craig Tucker.” Tweek’s eyes flashed up to meet Craig’s, and he was shocked by the sound of his name coming from  _ that  _ mouth.

 

Unsettled, he turned away with a disgruntled sound, straightening his Roman collar. After a few moments, he tried to straighten himself out for the task. Instead, it didn’t happen. He was way too thrown off to try an exorcism. 

 

Craig wasn’t able to bring himself to strike the demon down, not as he lay prone on the floor, shackled and submissive. He promised himself he’d do it in the morning, emboldened by daylight and a good night’s sleep. A quick Hail Mary before bed, a brief request for fortitude, and he slipped easily into slumber, secure in the knowledge his bonds on the demon would hold true. But oh, then came the nightmares. 

 

Craig was no stranger to wet dreams. He’d been a teenager once, not so terribly long ago, and the confusing, hormonal, tumultuous times had been frustrating to deal with. But he’d never had a dream so real as this, of a slick mouth, grabbing hands, a body pressing him down, making his hips buck. Of a hot, hard ridge pressing into his hip— Craig woke with a heavy gasp, shuddering in bed, struggling to regain his senses. 

 

Tweek crouched on the chest at the foot of his bed, his yellow eyes glittering as his tail swept along back and forth across the floor, like an irritated cat. He pinned that heavy, heavy gaze on Craig, taking in his flushed, mortified face, his gasping breaths, the way his thighs uncomfortably shifted together, sticky and wet. Then Tweek smiled, fangs flashing in the moonlight, and laughed as Craig scrambled out of his bed towards the restroom.

 

Craig knew then he was over his head, but he would have rather died than admit it. 

 

Morning came, and went. Tweek was still alive, still there, quiet in his chains, though his gaze was a heavy weight that followed Craig no matter where he went. After a breakfast that he ended up scraping most of into the garbage, Craig retreated to his study. He read scripture and practiced the coming Sunday’s sermon until the shadows grew long on the wall, the sun’s setting particularly red that night. It was rather reminiscent of blood. 

 

Craig finally summoned all of his strength, grabbed his rosary and a small cross, and prepared to face the demon. Tweek was exactly where he’d left him; chained in the corner of his room. He stirred when Craig approached, head tilting as he sat up, wings carefully unfurling behind him. 

 

“Finally. You’re a horrible host, pastor,” Tweek sighed, smiling mockingly as he spread his hands. “No snacks, no company, nothing to do… why, you know that’s pretty vile behavior to show a guest.” 

 

“Quiet,” Craig snapped, clutching his rosary more tightly as he centered himself before starting to light a few candles for purity and luck. 

 

“Oh,” Tweek hummed, staring at the fresh new flames dreamily. “I didn’t realize it was like that.”

 

Craig was so distracted the fact that he’d spoke didn’t occur until he was facing the demon face to face once more. He frowned abruptly and sighed. “I’m sorry, didn’t realize what?”

 

“That you had to set the mood… how thoughtful of you, pastor,” Tweek whispered, his tail sliding up around Craig’s leg and wrapping around his thigh. He jerked back, heart hammering and face hot, nearly knocking over his dresser as he stumbled away. 

 

“I-I,  _ no,”  _ Craig hissed, but he was far too shaken to try now, Tweek smiling innocently at him before starting to cackle.

 

“Pastor, do you remember bible camp? I know you do. Do you remember swimming? The showers after? How you’d just take a little peek when everybody was too busy fucking around and joking to notice?” Tweek asked him, voice silky smooth velvet in the darkened room. “And oh, how your cheeks warmed and your stomach fluttered and—“ 

 

“ _ Enough,”  _ Craig growled, blowing out the candles and leaving the creature to his own darkness.

 

Craig didn’t sleep very much that night, holed up in his guest room and staring at the ceiling until he finally succumbed to exhausted, thankfully dreamless, slumber. When he woke, it was to weak daylight, and he didn’t even bother to eat or check on his captive before going to the church to pray. Craig worshipped until his knees ached and his lips were numb from too much speaking, then finally went back to his home. 

 

He fixed himself a hearty, simple dinner, watched some mindless television, then did the dishes. Craig knew he could do this. He had to.

 

The door opened to a dark room, and Craig flipped the lights on begrudgingly. Tweek was curled up in the corner still, lightly shivering. He didn’t look… well. 

 

“What’s wrong with you?” Craig found himself asking before he even realized it. 

 

“I’m a demon of addiction,” Tweek sighed, tail swishing in obvious annoyance. “I have plenty of habits I haven’t been able to scratch. I’m also used to offal every few days. I’m still an organism, pastor,” he snorted derisively. “I eat. I shit. I sleep. I fuc—“

 

“Forget I asked,” Craig interrupted, looking away uncomfortably. Tweek chuckled, scratching briefly at his face. 

 

“I even shave,” he said lightly, and Craig’s eyes were drawn to the faint stubble beginning to cover his cheeks. “Anyway, whatever you’re going to do to me, could you maybe hurry? This room is boring, I’m hungry, and I’m dying for some coffee, or a cigarette. Or meth,” he added thoughtfully. 

 

“What do you eat? Usually?” Craig blurted without thinking, wincing afterwards. Tweek stared at him a few moments, then smiled, showing off those horrid teeth.

 

“Usually the souls of the damned. Fresh meat, organs, blood— that should be a decent substitute, I’d think,” Tweek offered casually, like they were discussing pizza toppings. “It has to be recently alive if it isn’t still kicking. I’m afraid dead things hold no use energy wise.” Horrified by the answer but even more so at the fact he had asked, Craig just waved vaguely and left, spooked. 

 

Tweek was awoken early the next morning by a rabbit with its throat slit, its bubbling, weak breaths struggling through its unnaturally open windpipe. It was tossed to him by a disgusted, pale Craig, but Tweek didn’t care: he was hungry. He tore into the rabbit ravenously, his teeth easily slicing flesh and crunching bones. Craig threw up in the bathroom as Tweek greedily licked every last trace of blood from the floor. His trembling lessened almost immediately. 

 

He got his coffee, and a cigarette, after Craig’s lunch. A blazing hot mug was left within arm’s reach, and a half-empty pack of smokes was tentatively handed over. Tweek watched with amusement at Craig’s shudder as their skin touched. He lit up immediately, pulling a face at the menthol taste, and blew the smoke out the cracked-open window. 

 

After dinner, Craig asked him about hell. They talked for an entire hour, animated and attentive, before Craig seemed to remember himself and shut it down firmly. He went to pray for a few hours, worked on his sermon, then finally came to bed.

 

Tweek didn’t try anything that night, although Craig still woke up with ruined sleep pants.

 

And that was how it went for the rest of the week. Tweek was kept alive with small mammals, black coffee, and cigarettes. He behaved himself, as much as a demon could, not pressing his luck and being fairly open about whatever questions the pastor had. 

 

Craig, in turn, kept a neutral, concerned face as several parents broached the topic of missing pets in the neighborhood after a clerical volunteer meeting. He found himself buying cigarettes once a day, and even splurged for the nicer brand of coffee at the grocery store. Craig scrapped his sermon over a dozen times, too. How was he supposed to preach about conquering demons when he couldn’t even exorcise Tweek? Was instead, in fact, deliberately keeping him here and in good health.

 

Every night, all of the sins he was committing haunted him, like hounds on a fox, insistent and impossible to ignore or escape. The increasingly-familiar star of his newly returned wet dreams didn’t help. Sleep no longer meant rest, but a battle with demons far more insidious than Tweek. 

 

Things came to a head after Sunday’s service. 

 

Tweek was weak again. He’d been shivering for over 2 days now, despite smoking an entire pack of cigarettes in half a day, downing a pot of coffee in an hour or so, and consuming the Malkinson’s family dog. It was making him beyond grouchy, a snappish, growly mess with heavy eye bags and sharp fangs. 

 

Worse news still; Bishop Maxi was coming that night. He was supposed to confirm Craig had successful exorcised a demon, then officially offer him his own bishop’s position. The only snag was that Tweek was far from exorcised, of course. 

 

Craig paced for hours, getting increasingly anxious as 7 pm ticked closer and closer. Tweek grew more and more sullen and out of it, too, watching Craig wear a track in the floor lethargically. Finally, he stirred. 

 

“Pastor. Pastor.  _ Craig,”  _ Tweek offered, and he slowed to a stop and looked up. 

 

“Yes?”

 

“I need… I need you to do something here. Either exorcise me, properly banish or release me… or get me a real meal,” Tweek muttered, pinning his yellow eyes on the pastor. “Because I can’t do this. I’m sorry. Trust me, your pain, your turmoil, your sin? The most exquisite thing I’ve ever felt. It’s delectable. But I’m wasting away, and it’s uncomfortable as shit.”

 

He gave an unexaggerated twitch, and snorted at his own emphasis. Craig’s face hardened, and Tweek briefly feared he’d gotten too careless with his abrasive words. He actually shrank back as Craig pulled an old-looking, clearly holy dagger from his closet, closing his eyes and submissively posturing. The strike he expected didn’t come; instead, one of his wrists was suddenly free, the shackle not attached to anything. Craig did the other cuff, then sliced the chain connecting his collar too.

 

“Just— I don’t fucking know, get out,” Craig hissed. “Before Father Maxi gets here. Please.” Tweek rose up abruptly, exhilaration filming him. He wasn’t actually free, spiritual bonds still vice tight, but now. Now he could  _ move. _

 

“Oh, pastor,” Tweek growled, advancing on Craig, who suddenly seemed to realize just what he’d done in a fit of inspiration. He backed up, eyes wide, and Tweek smirked, pressing him up against the wall. “Goddamn right you should be scared of me, but not for the reasons I know you’re thinking.” Tweek’s eyes dropped to Craig’s mouth, and he leaned in closer, until they were sharing the same air, breathing in each other’s breaths. Craig’s chest heaved, and he was so flushed, pupils blown.

 

Tweek didn’t do anything but stare. No, he wasn’t ever allowed to act, only tempt. But damn, if he wasn’t good at his job.

 

Craig kissed him. He pressed back against Tweek, hands wrapping around his shoulders, stumbling only slightly as he brushed against the demon’s wings. He nipped at Tweek’s bottom lip, then deepened the kiss, tongue carefully tracing against one of his fangs. Tweek  _ preened,  _ feeling exalted and strong, excited by the firm body against his just as much as the awful energy of torment pouring off of Craig. 

 

Craig got a bit more aggressive, slotting their mouths together firmly and seeming not to care as he accidentally cut his lip in the process. Blood filled Tweek’s mouth, and he pulled back with a slick noise, eyes heavy-lidded as his tail traced along Craig’s inner thigh. His eyes gleamed with the fires of hell, and Craig seemed to remember himself, jerking back with a wounded sound before wiping frantically at his face.

 

“Shit, shit, no, no, nonono.” Craig backed up again, clearly anguished, and Tweek sighed heavily, looking at him intensely as the pastor turned and fled.

 

To his church. His haven. His sanctuary. He’d been grateful for the already-lit candles, leftover from mass as he’d been too distracted to go through his usual clean-up, and immediately dropped to his knees at the altar, begging for help from Saint Michael himself. Nothing came except Tweek, advancing out of the shadows and joining him.

 

“I fucked up,” Craig admitted raggedly, clutching his rosary before abruptly throwing them away, watching the glass beads shatter. He felt a little bit better at that, the catharsis just what he needed. His faith in god was weak, pitifully fragile. He was entrenched deeply in sin, harboring a demon willingly.  _ Kissing  _ one, a male to be exact. Craig’s link to his religion was tenuous at best.

 

It was about to get a lot worse.

 

“Pastor Tucker! Get back! There’s a demon!” Father Maxi came in booming, throwing the doors open and pulling out his own rosary as well as a cross. “It’s okay, it’s weak, probably starving. We’ll take care of it.” He advanced as Tweek skittered back clumsily, hooves slipping on the marble, ticing anxiously. His tail swished and his wings rustled, but he knew damn good and well what the bishop said was true; he was incredibly depleted, and fight or flight wasn’t an option at the moment. The best he could do was cower.

 

“I— Father Maxi,” Craig stuttered, pale and shaken. 

 

“No worries, my son, we’ll banish it and get your application sorted,” reassured the bishop, glowering at Tweek and starting to mutter a few verses under his breath, warming up. He pulled his own knife out of his robes, brandishing it at the demon, who winced and tried to back up again. Unfortunately, Tweek was thoroughly trapped, pinned against the dias with a gigantic cross and figure of crucified Jesus looming over him. Ironic.

 

“Tonight, you will return to hell for a very long time, beast,” sneered Father Maxi, launching into his tirade. “We drive you from us, whoever you may be, unclean spirits, all satanic powers, all infernal invaders, all wicked legions, assemblies and sects.” Tweek shuddered, wings drooping as he whined in shock in pain, clutching at his middle with a ragged groan. Craig startled visibly, panic filling his veins at the thought of Tweek truly being gone for his entire lifespan. Suddenly, the answer to his problems seemed almost laughably clear.

 

“I invoke our Lord and Savior Jesus Chri—“ was all Father Maxi got to say before there was a dagger in his throat. Craig grasped him firmly by the shoulders, face gone cold, watching bright red blood spurt out. The bishop choked, eyes wide, betrayed, stupid. Just like the rabbit’s had been. They really all were a bunch of dumb animals in the end. Like a lamb for fucking slaughter. A bunch of stupid sheep. Father Maxi collapsed, scrabbling in a pool of his own blood, gurgling weakly as his life spurted out with every heartbeat. It didn’t take long, a few more agonizing moments of panic, shaky hands reaching for the cut in his jugular, before he gave a final jerk and went still, eyes open but seeing no more. 

 

Tweek was shivering, staring at the dying man with glowing eyes, his mouth filled with saliva as his tail thrashed. This was what he had been craving for a week now. This was what he needed. 

 

Craig was silent for a long time, Tweek barely holding himself back as Father Maxi’s life force began to fade. At last, he stirred, face hard and eyes cold. He wiped his dagger neatly off with his pocket handkerchief, then waved carelessly at the body. “Please, bon appétit,” Craig murmured mockingly. Tweek lurched forward, dropping gracelessly to all fours and immediately beginning to feast. Craig didn’t turn away this time, just watched intently as Tweek dug in like a starving wolf, all snapping fangs and eager claws. 

 

Tweek had never had clerical flesh before, and it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. And knowing how this death had occurred, the sin staining Craig’s hands more thoroughly than blood could ever hope to… absolutely exquisite. The dagger was certainly no longer blessed, twisted and tainted an unholy tarnished black. Tweek ate until he could no more, lapping blood off his claws before groaning in utter satisfaction. He slowly looked up at Craig, who stared back, face softening. 

 

“Thank you,” Tweek told him, shuffling his hooves as he slowly stood, feeling rather satiated. His cravings were gone, his addiction satisfied quite thoroughly into silence. Bishop was quite a pick-me-up. “Truly. Really. Thank you,” he made sure to add, genuine in his gratefulness. 

 

“Come. Let’s get you bathed. After all, cleanliness is next to godliness,” Craig said softly with a wry smirk, reaching out his hand with barely any hesitation. Tweek was somewhat impressed. He was a demon covered in blood and gore from a man Craig had just killed. Craig drew him a luxurious bath, and Tweek relished in the feeling of strength now pouring over him in waves thanks to his little feast. Craig disappeared, and Tweek assumed it was to dispose of what little remained of the body. He reappeared once the bath was cold, having changed into casual clothes.

 

“As far as the police are concerned, Father Maxi never showed up. They’ll find his car in Stark’s Pond tomorrow, along with what little you didn’t eat. Greedy,” Craig noted. He seemed calm, but Tweek wasn’t fooled. He could physically feel the turmoil inside, a thick black, static mess. Craig was unclean, tainted, full of sin. Tweek loved it.  _ Thou shall not kill,  _ his ass. Thou shall not make-out with demons either.

 

“Craig… you know I’ll need to eat again next week,” Tweek broached, slightly anxious, after Craig was in bed. The demon was too wound up and energized for sleep, but he was sat on the chest at the foot of Craig’s mattress, a spot he’d come to think of as his. “The pets and stuff won’t do, I’m afraid.” 

 

There was a slow exhale in the dark, a rustling of sheets. “That’s okay. You know, they ask me to come to the prison often. Guess a lot of sinners want some false redemption. I don’t think anybody would mind if one were to go missing next Saturday, you know? They might even thank me.” There was a quiet laugh, and Tweek shifted on his perch, blinking as the moon emerged from out behind a cloud. Soft light flooded the room. 

 

“Tweek,” Craig said suddenly. “Why don’t you come join me? You know, I don’t think the Bible explicitly says anything about lying with a demon. Loophole.” And so Tweek did, slinking down the mattress and curling up next to a man fallen far from grace. Giddily, like an excited child, Tweek sensed this was only the start of Craig’s descent, and he was thrilled to see just how far down they could go.

**Author's Note:**

> Idk man, I guess I was feeling the angst??????
> 
> Feel free to follow me at [my shitty tumblr](https://craigtherewhoisahomosexual.tumblr.com/)


End file.
